


Calling it a guilty pleasure implies a sense of shame

by pianoforeplay



Category: Jonas Brothers, Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-31
Updated: 2011-07-31
Packaged: 2017-10-22 01:16:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/232092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pianoforeplay/pseuds/pianoforeplay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared and Jensen. Nick and Joe Jonas. One suite at Cowboys Stadium. Let's see what happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calling it a guilty pleasure implies a sense of shame

**Author's Note:**

> There are some definite dub-con issues on this one. Please proceed with caution. Initially posted [here](http://pianoforeplay.livejournal.com/29460.html) on 1/14/2010.

Wait, what? Seriously?"

"Scout's fucking honor, dude," Jared says, not bothering to hold back his smile.

Jensen is less amused, one eyebrow arched. "The Jonas Brothers."

"The Jonas Brothers."

"Here."

"Any minute now."

"Are they even old enough to be running around without parental supervision?"

"I think the youngest one's like, seventeen." Jensen's eyebrow attempts to crawl up his forehead and Jared's lips twitch in a wider grin. "What? I have a sister."

"Megan's in college. And listens Tori Amos."

"Her musical tastes are wide and varied," Jared says, walking to the suite's fridge and peering inside. After taking a few seconds seemingly assessing the contents, he snaps open a Coors with a _hiss-pop_. "Plus, she thinks they're hot."

"She-- _what_?"

Because, really, there's no planet where that actually makes sense. Screaming teen-aged girls think the Jonas Brothers are hot and that's all well and fine, but full-grown adult women studying architecture at world-renowned colleges do not. That's just not the way the world works.

Jared leans back against the counter with a smirk and says, "Do you even know what they look like?"

" _Yes_ , I know what--"

Jensen's little white lie is cut short by a thunk against the suite door, followed by the rough jiggle of the door knob before it's pushed open and two dark-haired guys stumble inside.

"Oh," one of them says, stopping short, his smile fading fast when he notices the room isn't empty.

"Hey!" shouts the other one, staring right at Jared a bright smile. "I know you!"

Jensen glances over, notes the confused-yet-amused expression on Jared's face as the guy steps further into the suite. "You were on that show! The, uh... the one about that girl and her mom and you, like. Built her a car and stuff."

The quiet one -- this guy's brother, presumably -- rolls his eyes, but makes no move to interject and Jensen can't contain his snort of laughter. It's happened hundreds of times now, but Jensen will _never_ tire of Jared getting recognized for fucking _Gilmore Girls_. It's not as good as the shit he gets for that Olsen twins movie, but it's definitely a solid second.

"Gilmore Girls," Jared says helpfully, moving to reach past Jensen and extending his hand.

"Yeah!" the guy agrees, still grinning. "Gilmore Girls! You're... wow. A lot bigger than I remember."

Jared laughs then, dimples flashing as he nods. "Well, it's been a few years. Name's Jared. This here's Jensen."

"Oh yeah, hey," the guy says, eyes darting to Jensen, his smile fading just a little. There's absolutely no recognition in the look at all and Jensen isn't sure whether to feel insulted or relieved.

Doing his best to suppress both, he manages a strained smile and barely refrains from asking, _"So which one are you?"_ because it's not like a name will help anyway. Unless it's Oldest, Youngest or Middle. And even then he couldn't really care less.

But hell, he can at least be polite.

"Good to meet you," he says, finally reaching to shake the guy's hand.

He's rewarded with a bright, genuine smile. "Yeah, you, too. I'm Joe."

"Nick," says the other one, holding out his hand once Joe's let go. His smile isn't as bright or as warm as his brother's, but his handshake is more firm, not at all lacking in confidence.

And alright, okay. So maybe they're not _that_ young. They've both at least cleared puberty and if Jensen squints and tilts his head slightly to the left, he can see how some people might find them attractive. People other than screaming, pre-pubescent girls even.

... Fuck, okay. So the one guy has an impressive pair of eyebrows and the other a more severe squint than Chad Michael Murray, but yeah, they're attractive. Pure and simple. Doesn't mean he has to be happy about it.

"So you guys are Cowboys fans, huh?" Jared says as he takes another sip of his beer and rocks back on his heels.

Joe and Nick both exchange a look and Nick shakes his head. "Giants."

That elicits a bellow from Jared and he claps a heavy hand on Joe's bony shoulder. "Oh, man, seriously?" he says, all warm and good-natured teasing, "You are in for one long game, then."

"Yeah, we'll see," Nick says and Jensen feels his eyebrow twitch as the guy brushes past to head down the stepped aisle. Nick leans against the edge and peers down onto the field where the players are still warming up, one hand against the large pane of glass.

As far as suites go, this isn't the nicest or most expensive in the stadium. Situated above the 10-yard line, it's fairly small with twelve seats down in front and a kitchen area, small table, television and private bathroom in the back. The whole thing isn't much bigger than a few hundred square feet and Jensen can't imagine cramming more than twenty people in it at a time.

But today it's only the four of them.

When Jared had first mentioned the tickets -- a belated birthday gift from his lawyer -- Jensen had kind of figured they'd be sharing with a few other people. But he hadn't figured on sharing with the fucking _Jonas Brothers_. Apparently, Jared had decided to withhold that prime slice of information until Jensen was too far in to back out.

Asshole.

So here he is, stuck in a room with two members of the world's suckiest boyband, the too-clean, overly marketable epitome of everything wrong with the music industry and society as a whole. _And_ , to top it all off, they're both stupidly hot.

He consoles himself with the reminder that at least they aren't Zac Efron or Robert Pattinson and sucks in a deep breath as he glances back at Jared, doesn't even bother to hide the desperation in his voice as he says, "This place come with any scotch?"

:::

Jared has two Jonas Brothers albums on his iPod, one of which he actually paid for. This is not something he ever plans on telling Jensen.

Okay, they're maybe something of a guilty pleasure. He doesn't, like, seek out information on them or ever plan on catching them in concert, but he doesn't see the need to dismiss them as just another disposable, commercialized pop creation intended solely for the pre-teen masses like some people.

Like Jensen.

But then Jensen listens to bands Jared's never heard of and thinks _U2_ is too mainstream so he doesn't really think much of it.

And the thing is... they actually turn out to be pretty cool guys. These ones, at least. Kevin, the oldest, is apparently on his honeymoon in Bermuda or some place so Jared can't say much about him one way or the other.

"Probably planning their entire future while frolicking through the surf," Joe says before his tone switches into a goofy falsetto. "'La-la-la-let's have a million babies, Kevin! I hope they all look just like youuuuu!' 'Yes, Danielle! Oh, you are the love of my life! Never leave me!''"

It's quite the performance and Jared doesn't bother holding back his laughter. Nick even looks amused.

And, well. Here's the thing: Jared hasn't exactly read up on them a whole lot, but the few things he's come across have always painted these guys to be good ol' wholesome boys with clean mouths, clean hearts and clean minds. Disney goodness to the extreme for the comfort of parents everywhere. And, to be honest, Jared had kind of expected them to be either nauseatingly naive or holier-than-thou assholes. But they're actually... well, they're just _guys_. They joke around with each and even curse occasionally when some Giants player or another fucks up a play.

And they're seriously good-looking.

So he kind of can't stop himself from staring a little too hard when they're both too engrossed in the game to notice.

They're smaller than what he typically goes for and decidedly younger, but hey, he's not above branching out a little. There's some definite muscle hidden away under their clothing and Jared turns to Joe and gets into a conversation about each other's work-out regimes in between plays.

"I run a lot," Joe says and Jared nods, can see the evidence of Joe's efforts in his svelte build.

He shifts in his chair and cocks his head to one side, not bothering to hide the fact that he's basically checking Joe out. Says, "I lift."

"Yeah, I can--" Joe starts, laughing through a stammer. "It's, uh. Pretty hard not to notice."

Jared's smile widens and he's fairly sure Joe's trying to hide a blush as he swats at the hair brushing his forehead and turns his attention back to the game.

Interesting.

"They've completely shut down our running game," Nick grumbles as the second quarter starts up. He's sitting in the lower part of the suite, leaning forward with his arms on the ledge and peering down at the field. They pulled the glass window open earlier, letting in the sounds of the stadium, the roaring crowd mixing in with the music over the tannoy system, and Nick's right at the edge. "Why do they even keep _trying_? Just throw the ball!"

Jensen's across the aisle, feet up on the ledge and fingers curled around a Heineken. Jared doesn't miss the smirk curving his lips. "'Cause our D isn't giving Manning enough time," he says, matter-of-fact as he points down at the huddle. "He dances around back there too long and Ware and Spencer are gonna put him on his ass."

Nick looks back then, eyes narrowed in something close to a glare and Jared snorts.

"Nick takes football very seriously," Joe explains, stretching back in his chair to lift his leg and poke at his brother's back with the toe of his Converse. "Don't you, Nicky?"

"Cut it out," Nick mutters, not looking away from the action for a second as he rolls his shoulder in an irritated motion that comes off surprisingly graceful.

But Joe doesn't relent, just settles the bottom of his foot right at the center of Nick's back and pushes, rocking Nick's torso forward and back in a steady rhythm. Nick clearly knows Joe's looking for a reaction and he's resolutely not giving him one, eyes trained ahead, flicking between the enormous Jumbotron hanging from the rafters and the action on the field.

"That's like, the third three-and-out so far," Nick says as the Giants offense jogs to the sidelines. "This is ridiculous."

"Your face is ridiculous," Joe says and Jared glances over at Jensen, doesn't miss the way his friend's sneer has turned into a genuine smile.

:::

Okay, fine. So maybe the Jonas Brothers aren't quite the tools Jensen had been expecting. (Though he reserves the right to withhold judgment on the third one until he actually meets the guy. Which, to be perfectly honest, he's hoping won't occur any time soon. If ever. He does have his limits.)

They're actually... well, Joe's kind of hyperactive and Nick thinks he knows way more about football than he actually does, but they're still okay. Decent, likable guys.

And still alarmingly hot.

Nick in particular keeps doing this thing every time the Giants miss a tackle or fail to convert where he huffs out a frustrated breath and drops back against his chair, hands buried in his thick curls as his brow furrows. It makes the muscles in his upper arms bulge and his t-shirt ride up just a little, exposing a tiny hint of skin above his jeans.

Jensen finds it incredibly distracting.

But not as distracting as when the Giants finally score and Nick jumps to his feet, arms in the air and smile a mile wide. It changes the guy's whole face, makes him go from kind of pensive and brooding to bright and excitable. Makes him look about five years younger too, and _Jesus_ , Jensen suddenly feels like a world class pervert.

"Now, _that's_ what I'm talking about!" Nick gloats, grinning wide at Jensen before he turns to give his brother a forceful high-five.

Jared's standing in the back area, a dark figure beneath the dim lights, but he and Jensen share a long and silent look that sends a trickle of heat down Jensen's spine. Jared's gaze flicks to Nick as he takes a sip of his beer, lips pursed in question and Jensen swallows tightly, doesn't have to wonder for a second what Jared's asking.

 _You want him?_

Nick isn't his type. Neither is Joe. They're both short and small and fucking _young_ , but damnit if Jensen hasn't spent the past half hour contemplating how they both might taste. Probably as clean as their image, all fresh and unblemished.

He feels his cheeks burn when Jared tilts his head to the side and taps the rim of his beer bottle against his bottom lip. There's a plan brewing behind those hazel eyes and, while Jensen isn't exactly sure what all it entails, he's fairly certain he means to find out. His gaze slides over to the opened window again, to where Nick is leaning over the edge for a better view, unknowingly putting his ass on display. His jeans fit him well, nice and snug around thick thighs and Jensen swallows a flare of want as he looks back to Jared and nods. Just once.

It's enough. Jared's understanding is obvious in the slow curve of his lips, expression still disarmingly thoughtful.

The Giants are making a steady comeback, narrowing the lead to only three points as the half draws to a close. Nick and Joe are clearly pleased, their moods lighter as the teams below head into their respective locker rooms and the field is invaded with a hoard of movers setting up for the halftime show.

Joe stretches and says, "Hey, you think they got nachos here?" before releasing a loud belch.

The sound is apparently enough to pull Jared from his scheming and he turns to laugh at Joe, all dimples as he holds up a hand for a slap. "Dude, right on! I'd give that a solid seven and a half."

"Nuh-uh, that's at _least_ an eight," Joe argues as his hand connects with Jared's, fingers curling and squeezing together. Jensen finds himself staring at the connection and biting down on the inside of his cheek to keep back the surge of jealousy and want warring hot in his belly.

"You're disgusting," Nick says, but he's smiling as he makes his way to the kitchen.

Joe throws his brother a wide smile and releases Jared's hand. Says, "Seriously, nachos. Nick, you want any?"

Opening the fridge, Nick looks back over his shoulder and shrugs. "Sure. Don't forget the jalapeños."

"Duh. How 'bout you guys," Joe says, turning his attention back to Jared and Jensen. "You want anything?"

Jensen's face heats at the unintentional implication and Jared lets out a quick breath of a laugh, his grin wide and damn near predatory before he shakes his head. "N'ah, I think we're good for now. Thanks, though."

He's treading a line, Jensen can just feel it bowing under the weight of all Jared's not saying. But it's not breaking just yet.

If Joe notices, he makes no hint of it, just smiles again, wide and innocent and heads for the door without another word.

The room is suddenly quiet then, like Joe took all sound with him, and Jared and Jensen exchange a look, another silent conversation.

 _'You want him. We can have him.'_

 _'Are you insane??'_

 _'Look at him, Jen. He wants it, too. This could be really awesome.'_

 _'I can't believe you're really thinking about this. Jesus.'_

It's cut short when Nick lets the fridge door smack shut and cracks open a Pepsi, leans his hip against the counter as he takes a long drink. They both watch for a long moment before Jensen finally manages to tear his gaze away, clearing his throat softly into his fist as he looks back out through the opened glass.

"We did halftime here a year ago," Nick says. And then adds quickly, "Well, not _here_ here. At the other one. Texas Stadium"

"That right?" Jared says, that stupid smarmy grin still in place. Jensen doesn't miss the way he licks his bottom lip thoughtfully and, judging by the quick bloom of pink across Nick's cheeks, he's not the only one.

"OnThanksgiving," Nick says and Jensen has to give him credit for managing to keep his voice calm and even.

"Well, all be," Jared says, turning his slow smile on Jensen. "I did not know that. Did you know that, Jensen?"

Jensen glances from Jared to Nick, notices the wide-eyed look on the kid's face and doesn't bother holding back his quiet breath of a laugh as he shakes his head. Because, while there's no doubt Jared isn't trying for subtle anymore, Jensen's both amused and a little appalled by how _shameless_ he's being.

Nick is doomed.

"No, I didn't know," he says, looking to Nick again and giving a small, hopefully reassuring smile. "That's pretty cool, man. Bet that was a rush."

"It was pretty incredible," Nick agrees.

The conversation falls into a stretch of silence then, the air suddenly tense as Jared watches Nick with growing intent.

Nick finally breaks it by abruptly clearing his throat and sets his Pepsi on the counter before moving past Jared. "I, uh. I gotta..." he says, nodding at the door to the bathroom in the back before glancing back at them apologetically. "Be right back."

"Dude, yeah," Jared says, momentarily dropping the predatory look as he lifts his beer in mock salute. "No worries."

Nick disappears into the tiny room, the door clicking shut behind him and Jared tips his head for a second, waits and then flashes a wide smile at Jensen. "Didn't lock it."

"He's seventeen," Jensen reminds him with a knowing look, but he's already feeling the prickle of excitement in the base of his spine.

"Legal in the state of Texas."

Jensen blinks. "Jesus, I'm scared that you know that."

"Nothing wrong with being educated, Jen."

Jensen snorts a laugh. "Especially when it comes to the corruption of minors, apparently."

But Jared only grins as he sets his bottle aside and gives Jensen a wink, turns on his heel and heads for the bathroom. Jensen pulls in a shaky breath and watches, hopes like hell Jared knows what the fuck he's doing.

:::

"Whoa, hey! What--"

Jared raises one hand in the universal gesture of _Hey, calm down_ and quirks a warm smile as he closes the door behind himself. "Shh, it's cool," he says, carefully taking a step toward the sink. "Just need to wash my hands."

Crimson is slowly coloring Nick's cheeks and he turns his shoulders slightly, the sound of piss hitting water momentarily halted. "What's wrong with the one in the kitchen?"

"No soap," Jared says. He has no idea if it's true or not and frankly doesn't care.

Nick doesn't respond, but his shoulders are still a tense line, body hunched and turned away, the tips of his ears tinged pink.

Fighting a grin, Jared runs his hands under the tap. Says, "Relax, man, seriously. It's cool. Dudes do this all the time. I can guarantee you don't have anything I've never seen before." Then, as if to prove the point, he leans in just slightly, makes a show of checking out what the kid has to offer and smiles broader and brighter. "Got nothin' to be ashamed of."

That only makes Nick's cheeks flush even darker before he starts fumbling with his pants, shaking off and then tucking his dick back in. Jared calmly finishes washing his hands, wipes them dry across his thighs and takes a step back to make room for Nick at the sink.

Nick keeps his head ducked, but Jared doesn't stops watching him, gaze focused on the kid's reflection.

This is just gonna be too damn easy.

"Hey, you okay?" Jared says, voice quiet and as non-threatening as he can manage.

Nick glances up to meet Jared's gaze in the mirror. He's still flushed, still clearly more than a little uncomfortable, but he doesn't back down any as he nods.

"I'm good," he says, shaking off his hands.

Jared counts to three in his head and grins, takes one step forward. His hands fall to Nick's sides, rest tight against his ribs to feel the sharp hitch of the kid's breath against his palms as he presses in closer.

"Good," he murmurs into Nick's curls and then slides his hands down lower, curving them over Nick's slim hips and drawing him in, making him feel the hard length of Jared's dick against his ass. "Now, you gonna let me make you feel even better?"

He glances up to see Nick's shocked face reflected in the mirror, eyes almost comically wide and lips parted on a silent gasp. Or maybe a moan. Or maybe a cry for help, Jared doesn't know and doesn't really care. With a slow smile, he keeps his eyes locked on Nick's and slowly bends further to whisper against the shell of Nick's ear: "Hey, relax, man. C'mon. I know what I'm doin'."

Nick swallows, but noticeably doesn't protest, and Jared slides his right hand down and in, thumb flirting over the top button of Nick's fly.

"Relax," he breathes again and is completely unsurprised when Nick does exactly that, just hitches and releases one short breath and leans back into Jared's loose embrace, his eyes falling shut. "Yeah," Jared encourages, popping open the top button of Nick's jeans and making quick work of the zipper, Nick's dick quickly hardening beneath the push and pull of his grappling fingers. "Yeah, just like that, man. This is gonna be awesome, I promise."

Nick grunts in reply, a quiet, desperate sound, as he clenches his eyes shut and bites down on his bottom lip, jolting when Jared's fingers graze the firm outline of his dick through thin underwear.

Jared twists his wrist and pushes in further, feels Nick's cock swell under his palm, head turned just enough to keep his eyes on the mirror, breath hot against Nick's cheek.

"So good," he murmurs and Nick whines again, drops one hand to Jared's forearm, blunt nails digging into the skin. He has the other curled around Jared's outer thigh, doing little more than simply holding on.

"Shhh, I got ya," Jared continues, shushing softly as he gets his thumb under the waistband of Nick's briefs. Another twist of his wrist and he's able to slide his hand inside, white cotton stretched over his knuckles as he takes Nick's dick in a tight grip, revels in the sharp gasp it earns him in return.

He sneaks another glance at the mirror, gaze tripping over the length of Nick's bared neck, the breadth of his shoulders and straining muscles of his upper arms. The guy's small, there's no arguing that, but he's _solid_. Broader and thicker than his older brother.

Grinning, Jared slides his hand up the length of Nick's cock and wonders how else the two might differ.

Nick shudders under the touch and Jared can tell he's still fighting it a little, muscles trembling as he resists the urges of his own body, trying to keep himself from fucking into Jared's fist.

"You like that?" Jared says, half goading and half soothing as his thumb smooths over Nick's cockhead, smearing the wetness there and then lightly tapping the slit.

"Oh-- oh _God_ ," Nick answers before clamping his mouth shut once more, nostrils flaring with every harsh breath.

"Mmm," Jared breathes, ducking down to nose along the curve of Nick's neck, breathing in the smell of him: subtle spicy cologne that doesn't quite manage to completely mask the clean scent of sweat just beneath. God, so fucking _young_. Leaning in further, Jared brushes his lips against the soft skin and Nick jerks against him, releases a high, delicious little whine.

Jared grins, tightening his grip and working faster. It's rougher than how he normally likes it himself, quick and harsh and dirty. But Nick doesn't appear to have any complaints, his breath shallow and strained as he rests his head back against Jared's shoulder, body bowed as he surrenders to it, thrusts his hips into the circle of Jared's fingers.

"Please," he whispers, barely loud enough for Jared to hear at all and _Jesus_ , just that alone, that quiet little plea is nearly enough to make Jared come in his jeans.

Biting back his own groan, Jared grunts, "Yeah, c'mon," and jerks Nick faster, harder. Unrelenting. His gaze is stuck on the mirror, on the sight of Nick splayed and pliant in his arms, shirt rucked up and jeans hanging low on his hips. "C'mon, Nick. Give it up, man. Give it to me."

"Please-- oh god-- oh-- _OH_ \--"

Jared feels every shudder when Nick comes, from hip to shoulder and every spot in between. Jared's own dick is still hard and aching between his legs. He licks the trail of sweat sliding down the curve of Nick's jaw, squeezes his slowly softening cock with spunk-slick fingers.

Meets Nick's eyes in the mirror and grins slow and wide.

:::

Jensen sits at a stool in the upper area, one leg jittering with nerves, mounting dread and anticipation. He glances down at his watch and then back out at the field. The halftime show is in full swing, but Jensen's not really paying it any attention, his entire focus solely on wondering just exactly what Jared's doing to Nick in that bathroom and whether or not they'll finish before Joe returns.

Because coming up with a believable and non-skeevy reason as to why Joe's brother is currently alone in the bathroom with Jensen's enormous and much older co-star is not something he's really looking forward to.

Luckily, Nick stumbles out moments later. He's noticeably red in the face, though he barely glances at Jensen before ducking away to grab his Pepsi off the counter.

Jared's right behind him, still grinning, loose and mischievous, as he meets Jensen's eyes and makes a show of readjusting himself in his jeans before heading over.

"You kids have fun?" Jensen asks. There's a hot twist in his gut, jealousy and arousal and overwhelming curiosity.

But Jared only grins and takes a sip of his beer as he glances over at Nick. "Think we had a pretty good time, yeah," he says and then licks his bottom lip. "What d'ya say, Nick?"

Nick looks up, eyes darting from Jared to Jensen and back again, expression morphing between embarrassment and slow indignation.

The door to the suite swings open before he can manage a response however, and Joe topples inside along with the spicy aroma of fried cheese and jalapeños.

"Okay, so I got two orders," he says, holding up the food. "One with extra jalapeños and one with extra cheese. I know Nick hates when the chips get soggy, but I figure we can..." His words slowly trail off, large brows furrowing as he looks between the other three. "What? What'd I miss?"

Jensen notices the way Nick flinches, but the kid has himself under control again when Joe looks at him. All discomfort swiftly covered up as he says, "Thanks, Joe. Sounds good," and takes a chip from the jalapeño plate, cramming it into his mouth before heading back down the steps.

Joe watches as Nick gets settled in the bottom row of seats and then looks to Jensen, lips curved in a confused frown. "No, seriously. What'd I miss?"

"Dude was talkin' smack," Jared says, sharing a grin with Jensen over Joe's head. "So we had to put him in his place, that's all. He's a little embarrassed."

"Oh," Joe says, visibly relaxing somewhat. "Yeah, he does that. Sorry."

From the front of the suite box, Nick calls out, "Don't talk about me like I'm not here. I hate that."

"Whatever, you love when people talk about you," Joe shouts back and then thrusts the plate of cheesy nachos at Jensen. "Here, take these. Help yourself." He steals a chip off the top and gives Jensen a wide, cheese-filled smile before bounding down the steps and dropping into a seat next to his brother.

Jensen lets out a quiet breath then, relief flooding his veins, and glances over at Jared. "Chip?"

Grinning, Jared reaches for one and then nudges Jensen down the step, gets situated in a seat two rows up from Joe and Nick as the second half starts up, the volume of the crowd suddenly overpowering all attempt any kind of conversation.

He's still curious as all hell, aching to know every detail of what went on behind that door, even if a part of him almost _doesn't_ want to know if only for the sake of plausible deniability. But, as the game starts up again, he finds some of the immediate need dissipating under the thrill of crunching helmets and good ol' competition.

At least until Jared leans in with a look on his face Jensen knows all too well, smug and knowing and just a little bit conniving. He arches an eyebrow -- _What now?_ \-- as Jared lifts his right and and reaches over, holds still when Jensen instinctively flinches back. Waits.

 _Trust me_ , Jared says without a word and just like that, Jensen gets it.

Heat stirs heavy in his gut as he leans forward and inhales, pulls in the foreign, but distinct scent of spunk on Jared's fingers. It's not as heavy as Jared's, but sharper, with a crisp clean edge.

Unable to help himself, he darts his tongue out, tastes the salt of Jared's skin mixed with the tang of Nick's jizz. He closes and purses his lips around the taste, keeps it safe there as his eyes meet Jared's again.

"Jesus," Jared breathes, looking a little rocked off his mooring for the first time all afternoon.

And finally it's Jensen's turn to grin. He turns his attention back to the game as he sneaks a hand onto Jared's thigh, says, "You're showing me later," quiet enough for Joe and Nick not to hear as his fingers play along the inseam of Jared's jeans. "Every little detail."

:::

The Cowboys defense implodes in the second half and they end up losing 31-24.

Jared really can't bring himself to care.

 **end.**


End file.
